What Color Do You Feel?

2021-01-04 ☼ words

january 4 2021

My friend Spencer asks me, every time we talk on the phone:

“What color do you feel?”

I hate this question because I hate fiddling with red, green, and blue sliders as if it matters, and I’m angry Lab color isn’t the presiding standard — you can achieve much greater saturation in Lab.

I hate this question because I always feel like a black Sharpie, like a fat-tip can of black spraypaint, ready to deface a building, to black out the windows of a train car, to plaster NEKST on the side of 190 Bowery.

The closest thing I have to a religious ritual in New York City is to stop and pay my respects to the NEKST tag — every single time — at 190 Bowery.

Fuck street artists.

I like criminals.

I hate this question because she always pushes me — “No. You can’t choose black or white. You have to choose some color.” So I say “Warm red,” because I don’t hate that color. I say “Some yellow, like goldenrod,” because I don’t hate that color, either.

I hate colors — I don’t hate colors. — because they feel like decoration, and I don’t like decoration. I just want to hear what you have to say. I want to know who you are.

Revisiting a book I read today, a quote:

“If you have revolutionary ideas, they are much more likely to be listened to if you do not have revolutionary dress.”

— Marvin Bower, former managing director of McKinsey.

“What color do you feel?”

Whatever color the end of the world is. Whatever color revolution is. Whatever color it is when I tear my robes from my body at the death of my ego. Whatever color the sea is where there is no light. Whatever color the inside of a heart is. Whatever color you want — but do not shine light upon it.